


Untitled (2)

by Variesque



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: F/M, Murder, Terminal Illnesses, contains abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Variesque/pseuds/Variesque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unedited, mistakes are mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled (2)

**_i._ **

the first time they met, he pulled up next to her in a limousine and asked her if she needed a ride. “Have my legs suddenly broken?” she had asked facetiously in return, continuing to walk. he’d have stuttered in disbelief had he not recovered so quickly. that was the last time either of them wanted to encounter each other again.

**_ii._ **

it was raining  _hard_. rachael’s hoodie did not prevent her from being soused in near-freezing rain. he pulled up next to her, smirking. a quick curse crystallized in the air before she tugged the door open. she refused to talk the entire 15 minute drive; refused to acknowledge him until they were three blocks from her apartment (to which she briefly nodded towards). he didn’t understand why she wanted to walk that much farther.

**_iii._ **

“I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me.” she duly noted two weeks later.

“Maybe I am.”

“I should file for a restraining order.” she hugged her books closer.

“You won’t.” richard said confidently, she quirked a brow.

“And what makes you so sure?” he waited a moment before answering.

“You’d have done it by now. If you were serious.” she might’ve smiled (her lips definitely twitched, he observed with a faltering heartbeat).

“You’re cute enough; we’ll see.” she ducked into a bookstore then, leaving him to grin stupidly in his convertible.

**_iv._ **

he’s driven her home at 6 pm for at least a month now. they don’t know each other’s names. they don’t know anything about each other (that’s a lie, he knows her favourite book and she knows how he takes his coffee, but they’ve never discussed it). they notice more than they will admit.

**_v._ **

“What’s your name?” she asks one day, leaning into his window (she ended up on the other side of the street for some reason), 

“What? Now you’re interested in the person who’s driven you home for the last two months?” she shook her head, short dyed hair tickling her chin. “Just, what is it? I can’t go on calling you ‘Boy Blunder’.”

“You can.”

“I  _won’t_.”

he sighs, decides that it can’t hurt anyone. “Richard,” he says, winking and blowing a kiss in her direction. she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, Dick sounds about right.”

“Hey! What’s your name, anyhow?”

she throws him a scone she had obtained from the bakery around the corner and he catches it (he has  _excellent_  reflexes, she learned). “Rachael.” she whispers before she decides to walk home herself that day.

**_vi._ **

she’s bleeding and bruised, but not crying. “I don’t cry.” she hissed when he asked her what had happened. but the pressure in her voice was so low that he could not take it as a threat. he swore he would hurt whoever did this to her (“You don’t even know me.”, “I don’t need to.”). he takes her to his house that night, when she falls asleep in the passenger side. he gave her a bedroom and a glass of water. “Take me home.” she had bit at him groggily,

“Not a chance.”

**_vii._ **

she stayed with him for some time; demanding he let her leave (she could, though, whenever she wanted to).

“I’m starting to think you’re getting too comfortable in that guest room.”

“It’s a wonder how I haven’t received any death threats from your girlfriend.”  
richard smiled, whenever she wanted to know something, she would make exaggerated assumptions, wait until he proved them correct or not (she didn’t ask about things directly).

“Ah, but you see, as  _wonderful_  as I am, I live the bachelor life.” he flourished his point by popping the cap off a bottle of beer. she scoffed, finished pulling her sweater over her head, and made her way toward the fridge and grabbed a beer of her own.

“Can’t imagine you flirting, anyway.” she leaned against the counter, took a swig from the bottle.

“ _Excuse_ you, I happen to be a real Casanova when it comes to the  _art_  of  _flirtation_.” he pulls up two stools for them. she snorts.

“Yeah, okay.”

 _It’s not my fault if the girl doesn’t pick up on it._  he thought as they finished their beers.

**_viii._ **

“He’s abusive. I know it- but I can’t leave.” she plays with the stir stick of her coffee.

“You can, I’ll help you.” he was serious; protective.

“It’s…not for me. He usually doesn’t hurt me,” she takes a deep breath, and leans in closer, “it’s my mother.”

“Can you convince her to come with with you to my place? You know I have plenty of rooms.”

“Boy Wonder, this is one case you can’t solve.” she sighed, then smiled. her smiles were like paper cuts, thin and small; they stung. “You or your mansion.”

“I try my damnedest.”

“I know you will, stubborn bastard.” her eyes lifted, but she was not happier, richard took her hands (folded neatly atop the table).

“Let me help you.”

she cries then. nodding as a few tears strayed onto her cheeks.

he wipes them away.  _he always will,_  he promises silently.

**_ix._ **

she leaves that weekend, without a note and with no indication she was ever there. he smiled sadly to himself.

“I guess she finally realized she could leave whenever.” he said to the empty space around himself. the worlds settled awkwardly and he couldn’t shake them the rest of the week.

**_x._ **

she’s been gone for a year now, no word and no 6 pm drives home. she won’t admit she misses him, but she does. she can’t see him, anyway. her father has made it impossible to contact anyone outside of her three block radius for groceries. but it’s fine, she tells herself, because now her mother has a chance to recover, take her medication and heal without that  ** _asshole_**  cutting her off when he’s angry. for now, it’s peaceful, and she’s okay.

**_xi._ **

“richard,  _please_. h-he rapes her, and takes away her medicine and  _oh my god, she’s dead now_.  _please, I- need your help please come and get me._ ”

“rae,  _rachel_. Okay, what’s your apartment number,  _I’m coming_.” he was already halfway down the road; his stomach lurches.

“122, the 3rd building, top floor.” she’s hung up before he can get confirmation.

when he gets there (in 6 and a half minutes flat) the door is locked. he kicks it down and rachel is holding a kitchen knife, hovering in a bedroom doorway.

“You were never a father! Father’s are  _kind and protect you_.  _They raise you!_ ” richard had never seen her so distressed; he had never seen her  _feel_  so strongly.

**_xii._ **

she had stabbed her father, crying. they called the police together, while richard held her, stroked her hair and told her that it was over.

“It won’t be,” she whispered, “it never will be.”

“You’ll heal, but you will always remember.” he told her of his parents’ murder; he hadn’t uttered a word of it since the investigators questioned him.

when the officers arrived, rachel was cleared with self-defense and had been given a quick, on-site physical from the medics.

**_xiii._ **

she stayed with richard, not able to be in the suffocating rooms of her old home. but she still paid the lease because she couldn’t quite leave it.

“I’m sorry,” she said in the morning,

“What for?”

“for leaving.”

he kissed her forehead, “I know.”


End file.
